Tu Wanfang's right hand, which he raised horizontally, felt a ball of energy exploding in his palm.
The body, as tall and thin as a bamboo pole, staggered back several steps, leaning crookedly. It looked like it would fall over if the wind blew, but the heroes of Zhongzhou had been besieging him for a long time, and they only beat him down once.
The clothes on his body have become rags and tatters, making it difficult to cover his body, and the gray-blue skin he reveals is like a frozen corpse, but everyone feels that his vitality is stronger than anyone else.
They were also hit by the surging air waves, and everyone around them fell to the ground or fell on their backs. There were only a few people standing nearby, and most of them retreated three to five feet to the outside.
There was even a stooped, gray-haired old man with a wine gourd tied around his waist. He was blown away by the air wave and shot diagonally into the air!
The old man's face was covered by messy gray hair, and the collar of his chest was a lake of flesh and blood. His sleeves were empty, and only the black and red blood stains on the jagged cuffs could be seen. A moment ago, two fresh lines of blood could be seen.
There are still living arms.
Before the old man with a broken arm landed, a swordsman dressed as a scholar flew up and stretched out his right arm to hug the old man with great reluctance. When he landed, he could barely stand and fell backwards with the old man.
It turned out that the scholar-swordsman only had half of his arm left in his left sleeve, and he was not yet able to control the balance of his missing arm.
After Yang Zijin received Zhentian Lei, he saw from the messy gray hair that the opponent's eyes were closed, but his face was wrinkled and wrinkled, and it was hard to find even a hint of pain, as if he was taking in less air and outgoing more air.
He kept shaking Zhentianlei's body, trying to teach him to stay awake and not fall asleep.
The lips opened and closed for a long time, trembling, not a word was uttered, but another hot tear was shed on the wound on Zhen Tianlei's chest.
A series of silently concerned eyes moved away from the old drunkard Zhen Tianlei with sighs.
Compared to Hongshang's encounter with Xuan Xiao, the combined efforts of more than 40 strong players in Zhongzhou's arena were unable to do anything to defeat Tu Wanfang, and the number of people injured in Tu Wanfang's hands was still growing.
A large number of members of the Beibei League who were the first to take the initiative to attack Tu Wanfang with Mo Shang retreated to the outer lines in embarrassment, especially those in the Qingtian group who suffered the most severe injuries.
In addition to the Zhentian Lei who had just been driven away, the scholar and swordsman Yang Zijin lost an arm.
The leader of the gang sat back in the wheelchair, his hands resting on the armrests, his head lowered, and his breath was exhausted.
Hun's gun was broken, and Tu Wanfang pressed his head on the ground and pushed him for more than ten feet.
It turns out that Hun was born with an eye disease and it was difficult to distinguish the objects he was seeing with both eyes, so he usually took the initiative to cover one eye and used his left and right eyes in turn.
After some efforts, the left side of his face was destroyed, his left eyeball was shattered, and several sternum bones were broken. It was a great blessing that he didn't die, but he had no power to fight anymore, and he only had one eye left to use in the future.
The one in the best condition is Sima Jie. His legs were originally prosthetic limbs and he used crutches as weapons. He was injured by Tu Wanfang. He only lost one crutch and one prosthetic limb, so the impact was not great.
Seeing this situation, Meng Chaoge's eyes flashed with an unbearable look and then disappeared, and he shook his head.
The group of Jubei League who went south to Putian this time were not invited by Tingyuge, but came with their own purpose.
Compared to the Xiaoyue League and the Crescent Moon League, which had a more positive attitude, although the Qingtian Clan also had its leader personally holding down the formation, the number of people who came was the smallest, only ten.
But now only Sima Jie, who has a broken leg, and Yang Zijin, who has a broken arm, are still able to protect a living brother, which can be said to be extremely miserable.
Fortunately, there were not many red-clothed sect members and Japanese people left, and Tingyuge still had plenty of manpower. Meng Chaoge asked Shi Zhonghuo to pull Ji Zhe to the side of the Qingtian people, and keep an eye on them.
After Aban and Jiang Yichen worked together to overthrow an extremely arrogant Japanese warrior, they saw the dying Zhentian Lei in Yang Zijin's arms, the broken gourd fragments on the ground, and the last gourd of wine in Zhentian Lei's waist.
Abban, who had lost a confidant in life and in drinking, was filled with sullen feelings and spit on the ground.
Next to him, Jiang Yichen suddenly said, "Brother Aban, have you ever drank with an old drunkard?"
Although he and Jiang Yichen had gone through life and death together in Longyuan Gorge and were already familiar with him in Tingyu Pavilion, Abban really couldn't muster the desire to talk to Jiang Yichen who got drunk whenever he touched alcohol. He originally wanted to vent his anger in Japan.
As a human being, memories of hearing Jiang Yichen's words flooded into his heart like a tide. How could he move any further?
"You also know that he is called the old drunkard. I am a person who loves wine as much as my life. I have drank with him more than once before, and we always came back with a lot of fun."
Scenes of drinking fights floated through Abban's mind again and again, and the corners of his mouth curled up unconsciously, forming an ugly smile with his completely uneven beard.
"The old drunkard has a long-established "Jiu Qi Jue". One of the drawbacks of this technique is that it consumes a lot of alcohol. One gourd of wine will increase the strength of the wine. Three gourds of wine can fight a pack of wolves. Six gourds of wine can kill a pack of wolves.
The first level of Jiu Jin can tear a big insect apart with bare hands, and the ninth level of Jiu Jin can punch a bull until its flesh and blood fly everywhere!"
Jiang Yichen listened quietly as Aban told him about Yu Zhentianlei's past, intelligence information that was not unfamiliar to him.
"...Why do you think this old guy always carries so many wine gourds? It's not just for getting drunk and accumulating alcohol. Each wine gourd can be used to explode after being filled with wine vapor.
The final effect is comparable to the gunpowder used during the martial arts era recorded in old history, which can easily break mountains and crack rocks!"
"However, haha, such an amazing wine gourd actually only shook the monster twice!"
"This is the end of such a great guy!"
"What a fool!"
"Grass!"
Phew! Phew!
While Abban was venting his displeasure, he coordinated with Jiang Yichen's prodding with his black spear and slashed wildly with his knife, killing two more opponents!
Not long after, there were very few red-coated congregants and Japanese people left on the scene.
There are still about 180 people alive on the Zhongzhou Jianghu side, and it is more than enough to spare half of them to clean up the mess.
Top masters such as Gu Xinhun, Long Duoduo, and Master Qingku joined the demon-slaying battle one by one.
All the heroes of Zhongzhou Jianghu understand that as long as Tu Wanfang does not die, the casualties like Zhentian Lei will never stop, this battle will never end, and the Zhongzhou Wulin will never have peace!
How easy is it to kill Tu Wanfang?
In view of the fact that every time Tu Wanfang took the initiative to attack, he was very powerful and covered a wide area. The formation of nearly a hundred people only surrounded this great evil group in a radius of about twenty feet.
In order to avoid accidental injuries, most of the people surrounded and waited for attacks, waiting for opportunities to move. The situation in the field was often one-on-one, two-on-one, or at most three-on-one.
The fierce and invincible Long Duoduo and Tu Wanfang faced off head-on.
Tu Wanfang is still the unbeatable Tu Wanfang.
However, Long Duoduo seemed to be unable to get through an iron wall. Within thirty rounds, he suffered internal injuries.
Seeing that Lian Long Duoduo was so overwhelmed, Si'er, who was secretly selfish, forced Piao Ying to fight alone.
Then Gu Xinhun and Gongsun Yu joined forces to take action.
Gongsun Yu's sword moved in all directions, but it failed to kill thousands of people.
Gu Xinhun stabbed more than a thousand swords, and Gu Yan Sword, which could break through the crystal wall of Sun Moon Castle, was pointed directly at Tu Wanfang's eyebrows, throat, heart, and lower body, but it was useless.
When everyone was at a loss what to do, Master Qingku stood up with his monk's robes in tatters.
They replaced Gu Xinhun, Gong and Sun Yu, whose hands holding the sword were trembling and in urgent need of a break.
The fists and palms of Tu Wanfang and Master Qingku clashed, making a sound like gold and iron hitting each other, bang bang!
A dull Buddha's light appeared on the skinny and dark body, sometimes like a vajra's angry eyes, sometimes like a Bodhisattva's lowered eyebrows. He clapped his hands unhurriedly, not like Tu Wanzhi's point-to-point confrontation with the wheat light, but more like a fist fight with that big guy.
Playful.
Master Qingku, who showed great kindness and compassion, Qianye Shou, and Tu Wanfang, who played gentle Tai Chi, not only made the pressure on everyone's shoulders slightly lighter, but also showed everyone a clear path.
Since Tu Wanfang cannot be cut into pieces and cut into pieces with a thousand knives for the time being, then he can try to restrict the opponent or hide him.
…
…
With the death of several remaining members of the red-clothed sect and Japanese warriors, in tonight's battle at Jiulian Mountain, only Hongshang and Tu Wanfang were left on the red-clothed sect's side.
Xuan Xiao walked towards the crowd holding the red dress with his hands tied behind his back.
There was a snap, and it was still on the muddy ground.
Hongshang put her hands behind her back and was unable to control her body, so she had to kneel down on her knees, raise her buttocks, and drop her head to the ground, where she fell and ate the mud.
His mouth was full of blood, sweat, corpse water mixed with mud, and he was not in a hurry to spit it out.
He just slowly raised his face, with its bruised and purple meridians criss-crossed, showing no trace of innocence and childishness, and looked for Xuan Xiao, who was looking down at him from above, with a proud expression that seemed to be a smile but not a smile, as if he was silently provoking a demonstration.
Xuan Xiao said calmly: "Tell me, what is the weakness of this monster? You will never create a monster that you can't destroy yourself, right?"
Hong Shang's mouth was still open, with muddy water still dripping from her mouth. She had no intention of answering, and the mocking look on her face was even stronger.
Xuan Xiao scratched his chin and said helplessly: "How about throwing you over to feed Tu Wanfang? Or we find a way to bring the entire ship and send him back to Japan?"